Swell, now what the hell does that mean?
For years I was the only person I knew who was “out” about being polyamorous so I pretty much got to tell my partners what it meant. While somewhat awkward, and highly tiring, this served the purpose of ensuring that my lovers and I had an in-depth discussion about what poly meant to me (and whether it would mean ANYTHING to them) with plenty of questions & answer right at the beginning of the relationship. Well, when I moved out to Portland and found myself in the midst of *gasp* a poly COMMUNITY I was beside myself with joy. I could finally find partners who already know what poly WAS, that I wouldn’t have to explain my lifestyle to, and who I knew right off would be OK with my style of loving. Learn from my mistake.
Polyamory is apparently not a lifestyle nor a relationship style. Poly is a header with fiftybejillion subcategories, some of which bear little to no resemblance whatsoever to some of the others. Suddenly I find my version of polyfidelity lumped under the same banner as swingers and long-term exclusive triads and folks who have don’t-ask-don’t-tell agreements with their partners. Well..... fudge. Now I discover that initiating someone who’s never heard of poly to the notion is a hell of a lot easier than dating somebody who has a slightly different notion of poly than I do...... which I might not find out about until months after we’ve already been dating because, hey, we’re both poly, right? Bah!
Really folks; there aught to be names for these things.
Now, there ARE some names for some types of poly. There’s polyfidelitous, polyfuckery, swingers.... that’s not enough. I’ve half a mind to write a damned questionnaire and require all my friends and lovers fill the damned thing out early on.